


The Process

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode Related, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-07-13
Updated: 1999-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-10 17:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11131659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: A short, sappy Perfect Strangers fixit.





	The Process

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

(Type a title for your page here)  
Standard Disclaimer: These characters belong to Alliance Co and not  
me. Nor am I making any money off this story.  
  
Author�s Notes: This is an AU story about how I thought Perfect  
Strangers SHOULD have ended. You want sap? Oh, I got sap. I got more  
sap that you can shake a stick at. Rated PG for some grown-up silliness.  
  
Dedication: For Honey-mustard and second chances.  
  


  |   |   |   | The Process  
---|---|---|---|---  
  
  
  
        Ben started for his office/  
bedroom but couldn�t bear the thought of entering it. His father  
would be there, his father who had done his level best to help Ben believe.  
. . Believe that she thought enough of him to have a family with him.  
Helped him believe that she loved him enough. Helped him believe that  
there was an end to the lonely, just around the corner. Helped him believe  
that all he had to do was comb his hair, buy some daisies and say yes  
and then �presto!� a wife, a family, a home. Little girl�s  
with all their mother�s intelligence and beauty. Little boys who  
would love and protect their sisters the way Ray Vecchio had.  
        Ray  
Vecchio. The force of that name sent Fraser crumbling onto one of the  
benches in the foyer of the consulate. It hit him like a tsunami all  
at once. A month and a half ago he lived in a tidy little apartment  
with neighbors who trusted and cared for him as he cared for them. He  
had a best friend who was more like a brother to him. And that brother  
came a surrogate family with whom he ate dinners, attended parties, laughed  
with and celebrated holidays with. And every day he went to work with  
the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. They worked side by side  
with cool efficiency until the most unexpected moments when he would  
trip her up with an unexpected compliment. There was the thrilling security  
of knowing that everyday they would get a little closer to the point  
of no return. And now, in the fading light of the hallway, it was all  
gone. Ray was gone with heart stopping suddenness, his apartment burned  
to the ground, his cherished neighbors scattered to the winds, and Inspector  
Thatcher. . . even if she were able to forgive him for his inexcusable  
assumption, it would never be the same between them. His sacred, secret  
dream of a future with her was shattered like so many snow globes. He  
hadn�t felt so cold and alone since the day his mother died. Ben  
felt the hot stickiness of tears running down his face and did nothing  
to stop them.  
        Meg  
stood in the doorway, watching her steadfast second-in-command cry silently  
in the hallway. She had two choices, she could creep back into her office  
and wait for him to leave or she could go to him. She was about to turn  
back out of the room when she noticed the careful comb marks in his hair.  
She could picture him with heartbreaking clarity, wetting the comb and  
running it though his curls, rehearsing the magic lines that would make  
them a family. She could see him at the supermarket, blushing as he  
selected the prettiest bouquet of daisies. Daisies, as if they were  
eight-year olds on the school playground. The shock hadn�t quite  
worn off yet, the shock that he loved her enough to make that offer.  
This was Benton Fraser after all, she had no doubts that he was sincere.  
Nor did she believe he was willing to serve as some sort of sentient  
sperm bank. He was offering more than his �services,� he  
was offering to stand by her and those imaginary children, everyday,  
for the rest of his life. He *wanted* that. And she had turned him  
down flat, dismissed him and taken the daisies he had �found�  
in one shaking hand. But to Meg Thatcher, the biggest shock was that  
she wanted it that much, too. She moved to kneel in front of him, taking  
his shaking body in her arms. He resisted momentarily, she could feel  
the stiffness of his muscles and the embarrassed heat of his cheek against  
hers.  
        �It�s  
all right, Ben.� She said firmly, pulling him closer. �It�s  
going to be all right.� He gave a shivery sigh, and wrapped his  
arms around her, crying for everything he had lost. Even those things  
he never really had in the first place. When he couldn�t cry any  
longer, she released him and gently brushed his tears away. Taking  
his hand in hers, Meg lead Ben back into her office, shutting the door  
behind her. His expression was hesitant and unreadable as she leaned  
up on toes and kissed him softly on the mouth. Ben let her kiss him  
for a moment before holding her at arms length.  
        �Sir.  
. . Meg,. . . I can�t if. . . � His voice broke a little and  
Meg knew he was thinking of Ray Vecchio.  
        �Ben,  
when you came into my office this evening, you made an offer. One that  
you meant.� Ben nodded faintly. Meg drew herself up properly,  
drawing all her confidence and composure into her voice.  
        �Well,  
I�m making one now, too. We can do this, Ben. You and I. We deserve  
it. And I won�t leave you. I won�t cheat you or abandon you.  
I�ll be here, everyday.� Ben searched her eyes for a long  
time, measuring the seriousness of her voice. He wanted to be a good  
officer and refuse, but more than that, he just wanted to be a human  
being. He wanted to touch her bare flesh in the moonlight and know what  
the skin on her flat stomach tasted like. He wanted to wake up every  
morning with her arms around his neck and watch her rock infants to sleep  
in the middle of the night. And so when she kissed him again he kissed  
her back, warmly and fully. They managed to stumbled over to the couch  
before his serge was discarded. Ben caught her hands tightly and whispered  
�I love you.� into her hair. He wasn�t going to make  
his father�s mistakes. He wasn�t going to hide those words  
in his private journal, he wanted her to know them, to believe them before  
this went any farther. �I know.� She whispered back. And  
then they were lost.  
        Ben  
woke up to the unusual sensation of someone kissing his neck. He turned  
his head to brush his lips across her forehead. *Meg* he thought, delighting  
in the promise of her name. She looked up at him with a merry twinkle  
in her eyes. Ben was almost floored by the uncharacteristic playfulness  
in them. This was a side of his icily beautiful commander he could get  
more than used to. Would get more than used to.  
        �Constable,�  
She began in her most casually professional voice. �I was thinking  
about having a baby and was wondering if you would mind helping with  
the process.� Ben lifted his eyebrow, a preposterous, given their  
current positions, blush staining his cheekbones.  
        �The  
process, sir?� He asked, clearing his throat.  
        �Yes,  
Constable. The Process.�  
        �Ah.  
What do you call, uh, what we, um, before. . .� Meg smiled at what  
she hoped was his version of self-mockery.  
        �Correct  
you are, Constable.� She let a comfortable silence spread over  
them in the morning sunlight.  
        �What  
are we going to name them?� Meg asked at last as she stretched  
out against him. Ben considered it thoughtfully, a small crease forming  
between his eyes.  
        �Well,  
we�ll have to name one after Deifenbaker. You know how he gets.�  
Ben responded, chucking a thumb at the wolf sleeping just outside the  
door. Meg groaned, but nodded. Ben ran his hand down the small of  
her back as he continued to think.  
        �And  
we�ll have to name one after Ray. . .� He added. Meg smiled,  
rubbing her chin against his shoulder.  
        �Which  
Ray?�  
        �Ummm.  
That�s a good point. We�ll have to have two Rays.� Meg  
frowned suddenly.  
        �Aren�t  
we going to have any girls?�  
        �Of  
course. We can name her Deifenbaker. He wouldn�t mind.� Meg  
laughed lightly, imaging herself introducing her children at Consulate  
events. �These are our sons, Ray and Ray and our daughter, Deifenbaker.�  
She let an unfamiliar silly happiness settled deep in her soul. But  
despite her somewhat questionable behavior last night, behavior she was  
planning on repeating with abandon for the next forty odd years, Meg  
Thatcher had responsibilities.  
        �I  
should get home before Turnbull gets here. I can�t imagine how  
I would explain wearing the same suit two days in a row.� Ben sighed  
a little in disappointment, a helpless doubt washing over him.  
        �Hey.� She  
said, catching the look in his clear blue eyes. She took the sides of  
his face in her hands. �I meant what I said yesterday. Okay, Ben?�  
A glimmer of moisture sparkled in his eyes as he nodded. Meg kissed  
him quickly and began to dress. She slipped the strap of her purse over  
her shoulder before turning back to him.  
        �Oh,  
and Constable?�  
        �Yes,  
sir?�  
        �I  
love you, too.� Ben smiled, that secret, dimpling smile, the kind  
that swept away the sadness in those icy eyes.  
        �Thank  
you kindly.� He responded simply. As he listened to the fading  
clack of her heels, Ben felt the ache in his chest flicker and disappear.  
Ray would come back, Ben knew it. And in the meantime, there was a brand  
new future to daydream about.  
  
  
  



End file.
